How Did I Fall In Love With You?
by The Writer0214
Summary: This is a songfic that I wrote while I was missing my girlfriend, trying to keep myself busy. Yup, one order of Pevencest, coming right up! Don't like it, don't read it. Based on Back Street Boys' song of the same title. Please read and review! Thanks!


How Did I Fall In Love With You?

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, and I know C.S. Lewis would not like Pevencest. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Notes: I just thought of this, one time, while I was missing my girlfriend and finding things to make me busy. –le sob- She needs her space... Awww... Anyways, this is a songfic based on Back Street Boys' song of the same title. If you do not like Pevencest, fine! Don't read it. It's that simple. But for those of you who like it, thank you. And please R&R!!! No flames, please...

_Remember when...  
We never needed each other...  
The best of friends like...sister and brother.  
We understood...we'd never be...alone.  
_

In his tent, the High King lay in his bed, wide awake. He was deep in thought. He had just finished playing a game of chess with his brother King Edmund, and talking of nothing but tactics and battle plans.

Although tired from the day's battles, he could not bring himself to close his eyes. Even for a minute. He was thinking—not just about the war with Calormene, he was thinking about her. Queen Susan. His sister. High Queen of Narnia. They were brother and sister. And although there was bickering between them—for who could avoid bickering with siblings—they considered each other the best of friends.

They had need of each other, before, but not in this way. Not in the way the High King felt, right now. He never needed her in that sort of way, before.

His mind drifted. Suddenly, he was transported back to Finchley, to a time and place, long ago to them. Familiar, yet distant—ancient, foreign, and unknown to them.

###

Seven year old Peter Pevensie bolted upright. He sat on the bed, straining his ears, listening for any sound. There it was—clear, distinct, audible. A knock on the door. Peter got out of bed, tip-toed over to the door, and opened it.

"Suzy? What's the matter?" he asked, in his sweet, innocent voice.

"I had a nightmare, again," she replied, sobbing, "Mum and Dad's room was locked. So I went to see you, like you told me."

In an instant, Peter's arms encircled her small, trembling frame. Her arms sought him, hungrily.

"You can sleep here," Peter whispered, as he led her to bed, "Now, tell me all about your nightmare."

###

His reverie ended, and he understood. They understood, they'd never be alone.

_Those days are gone.  
And I miss you so much.  
The night is long...and I need your touch.  
Don't know what to say.  
Never meant to feel this way.  
Don't wanna be...alone tonight.  
_

Those days are gone. Peter missed Susan so bad. So bad, it made him sick to think of it. The night, certainly, was long. Peter ached for Susan. He needed her touch. His fingers burned to touch her soft, milky, delicate skin. To hold her. To touch her. To feel. To fill her cup with love, flowing to the brim. He was thirsty. His arms sought her, hungrily.

###

Suddenly, the entrance to his tent was opened, the flap thrown back. In walked the Gentle Queen, with such grace. Her long, flowing black hair cascading past her shoulders, down her back...

Her long, white, queenly garb enhancing her beauty, every feature, every curve. Silvery moonlight seeped in through the opening, making her all the more beautiful...

She was dazzling. Radiant. Peter had thought he was seeing a vision. Or one of the Nymphs coming to pay him a visit.

Certainly, it was no Nymph. It was the Gentle Queen. She drew closer. When she reached the foot of his bed, Peter sat up.

"Susan? What are you doing here?" he asked in surprise.

"I came to see you," she said, softly, her voice carried by the wind. She sat down on the edge of his bed.

Suddenly, Peter did the unexpected. He looked into her eyes, cupped her face, and leaned in to kiss her. He was thirsty. His arms sought her, hungrily.

She, too, did the unexpected. She unclasped a brooch at her shoulder, a knot or two at her side, and in an instant, her white garments billowed, falling to the ground. She was naked.

Peter was shocked, but not surprised. In fact, he was hoping for it.

"Make love to me, Susan," he whispered, his voice coarse and low, "I don't want to be alone tonight. I can't. Not tonight, not ever. Not after this."

Peter undressed, and for the first time, he did something he had never done before. He made love to his sister. "I don't know what to say," he whispered breathily, "I never meant to feel this way."

_  
What can I do...to make you mine?  
Falling so hard...so fast this time.  
What did I say?...What did you do?  
How did I fall...in love with you?  
_

It was only a dream. Peter reached out for Susan on the other side of the bed, but all he could feel were sheets. He was grabbing at them, pressing them to his nose, trying to smell Susan's scent. But there were no lavenders and lilacs. No orchids and apples. The other side of the bed was cold. No sign of another human being sleeping on the bed. No warmth.

The High King sat up, sat at the edge of his bed and rubbed his tired eyes. He let out a long, shaky, breathy sigh, heavy with all the emotional turmoil in his heart.

_What can I do to make you mine?_ he thought.

He had a slight infatuation with her during their first year in Narnia, but that did not last long. Or did it? He was falling hard, this time—and fast.

_What did I say? What did you do?_ he thought with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair,

_How did I fall in love with you?  
_

_I hear your voice...and I start to tremble.  
Brings back the child...I resemble.  
I cannot pretend...that we can still be friends.  
Don't wanna be...alone tonight._

###

Peter's mind drifted. Susan, Peter, and Orieus were riding through the forest, one day, when a mercenary band of Calormenes attacked and carried the Gentle Queen off. She tried to fight, but to no avail. They were outnumbered. Orieus was badly wounded, and Peter sprained his wrist and ankle.

"Peter! Peter! Help me!" Susan screamed.

_I hear your voice and I start to tremble..._He shook with rage. Fear. Worry. _Brings back the child that I resemble..._

Peter's mind drifted, again. Susan's voice. In his head. It brought back the child that he resembled.

Five year old Peter was busily playing on a grassy knoll in a park, trying to catch a butterfly that nimbly flitted past him, past shrubs, happily skipping from flower to flower. Suddenly, he heard a cry! Susan!

Four year old Susan was playing with her doll, when a boy older than her tried to grab the doll. She screamed and tried to keep her hold on the doll. The boy pulled her hair.

"Peter! Peter!" she screamed, wanting to cry.

When she could no longer hold on to her ragdoll, she let go and fell to the ground.

Peter rushed to her side and comforted her. Then, straightening up, he walked up to the bully. The bully was bigger, but Peter could care less. He wasn't scared.

"You made her cry; now, I'll make you scream," he said through gritted milk teeth, "Give her back her doll—now!"

"Why?" the older kid said, "Are you her boyfriend?"

"I'm her brother," Peter replied before knocking the daylights out of him.

###

Peter knew he and Susan could no longer be friends—much less brother and sister—if she knew the truth. The truth about his feelings for her. He did not want to be alone. Not tonight. Not now, not ever.

_What can I do...to make you mine?  
Falling so hard...so fast this time.  
What did I say?...What did you do?  
How did I fall...in love with you?  
_

Edmund peered into Peter's tent. He had rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "The runner said you, uh, wanted to see me?" the younger boy said, "This better be important."

"It is important. It's about Susan."

The younger king's ears perked up; he sat upright in the chair Peter had offered him, his hands on his lap. He was completely frozen. Stunned by Peter's words. Did he already know what was coming?

"This isn't about the war, is it?" Edmund said, after a long, awkward silence.

"Yes, it is. Well, partly."

"Tell me again, Peter—what is it exactly we went to war for?"

"Because Narnia needs its Queen."

"There's Lucy," Edmund interjected.

"It's not the same!" Peter shouted.

"Because Narnia needs its Queen?" Edmund said with a cock of his eyebrow, "Or because _you_ needs its Queen?"

Peter stood in a rage, grabbed his sword Rhindon from a nearby table, and unsheathed it. The blade was at Edmund's neck in seconds.

"You would kill me because of this?"

Peter heaved a sigh and sat back down, defeated. Edmund had guessed. Guessed it all. Not only him, but all Narnia, as well. All Narnia knew the reason for the war. To retrieve the Gentle Queen and to make her the High King's bride.

"Yes, yes, it is about Susan," Peter said, with a sigh, "What can I do to make her mine?"

"Peter!" Edmund countered, "This is insanity!"

"Call me insane all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that I love her!"

"You're falling so hard, so fast." It wasn't a question.

Peter paced up and down in the tent. He was uneasy. Restless.

"What did I say? What did she do?"

"What did you say?" Edmund said.

"What did I say that made me realize I was in love with her?"

"I'd go with the second question, if I were you," Edmund interrupted, "What did she do to make you fall in love with her?"

Peter whispered, softly, "How did I fall in love with you?"__

I wanna say this right  
Oh, it has to be tonight.  
I just need you to know...  
I don't wanna live this life.  
I don't wanna say goodbye.  
With you I wanna spend...the rest of my life.  


Peter saddled his horse and rode furiously out of the Narnian bivouac, past Owlwood, past the Dancing Lawn, past Shuddering Woods, past the Western Woods, heading in the direction of one of the Calormene encampments. He didn't care if he got killed. He had to tell Susan that he loves her. Come hell or high water, he was willing to risk anything and everything just for her—and that included getting captured or dying in the hands of the Calormenes.

He did not listen to his horse's complaints, nor did he stop for a moment to rest. Just as he was coming out of the Western Wood, however, he heard leaves rustling. _Must be the tree spirits wanting to greet me,_ he thought. But he stopped when he saw a figure dart past him out of the corner of his eye.

_A Calormene spy?_ he thought, as he unsheathed his sword from its scabbard.

"Who goes there?" Peter said, authority ringing in his voice, "Identify yourself!"

More rustling. Peter gripped the hilt of his sword and alighted. He crouched low, then straightened up again.

Just as he was about to swing, out of the shrubs came the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. The woman in his dreams. The Gentle Queen herself. Susan.

"Susan," he whispered in shock, "Oh, Susan..."

"Peter," Susan whispered, "It's me, Peter. It's me. Hush, now. Shush. I am unhurt."

"Thank Aslan," Peter breathed a sigh of relief and embraced her.

She was without her leather armor, and only her bow, quiver, and horn were with her.

"How on earth?" Peter asked. But Susan shushed him with a kiss.

After they both broke from the kiss, she said, "I had no time to put on my leather armor, nor did I have the chance to go back for it. So I took my bow, arrows, and horn with me. I thought I should blow it, but by Aslan, if I did, they would've found me."

They kissed once more under the moon, beneath the ceiling of stars. The wood creatures were witness to their love.

"Had you died, I would not have wanted to live my life," Peter whispered softly in Susan's ear, as he held her close, "I love you, Susan. I love you. More than a brother should. I don't want to live my life without you. I want to spend every moment of it with you, for the rest of my days."__

What can I do...to make you mine?  
Falling so hard...so fast this time.  
What did I say?...What did you do?  
How did I fall...in love with you?  


"What can I do to make you mine, Susan? I've fallen so hard for you. I've fallen so fast, I didn't know what hit me."

"I am _yours_, Peter," Susan said with a smile, "I think our kiss made that clear to you. What did I say?"

"What on earth do you mean?"

"What did I say that made you fall in love with me?"

"By Aslan, I have no idea. I don't know what you said or did."

Susan sighed happily before giving Peter another kiss.

"How did I fall in love with you?" she said, after they broke from the kiss.

_  
What can I do...to make you mine?  
Falling so hard...so fast this time.  
Everything's changed...we never knew.  
How...did...I...fall...in love...with you?_

As Peter and Susan mounted the horse, they had one and only one thing on their mind; everything had changed between them. No longer were they brother and sister. They just never knew how.

There was no longer any need to ask what one can do to make the other his. That was clear. Nothing need more be done.

They had fallen for each other—hard and fast.

"How did I fall in love with you?" Susan whispered to Peter as they rode like the wind, all the way back to Castle Cair Paravel.


End file.
